


Buried in the Waves

by Schmidt1012



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Benny Lafitte Lives, Canon Rewrite, Episode: s014e03 The Scar, Hurt Benny Lafitte, M/M, Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Michael Ships it, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester's Season 14 Angst Beard, Star Wars References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 09:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21134210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmidt1012/pseuds/Schmidt1012
Summary: Benny.It was the first word that had escaped his lips after the winged asshole, Michael, had left his body.As Dean lay there on the dirty floor of an abandoned church, unmoving and gasping for air, the rancid stink of decaying flesh assaulted his nose. Whatever the archangel was planning, abandoning his perfect vessel like a broken toy, Dean was relieved that his suffocating battle to win his body back was finally over, that he’s finally free.Would it make a difference if Benny lived this long?





	Buried in the Waves

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Gregory Alan Isakov's unreleased song [Buried in the Waves](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IEXqz6Oj4ms).

_ _

_Benny._

It was the first word that had escaped his lips after the winged asshole, Michael, had left his body.

As Dean lay there on the dirty floor of an abandoned church, unmoving and gasping for air, the rancid stink of decaying flesh assaulted his nose. Whatever the archangel was planning, abandoning his perfect vessel like a broken toy, Dean was relieved that his suffocating battle to win his body back was finally over, that he’s finally free. Or that’s what Michael wanted him to believe, to put his guard down so the archangel could instigate a surprise attack with his super army of altered monsters.

_Well, that ain’t happening, jackass._

Mind still trapped in the illusion of never-ending waters, where Michael had tried to drown him into submission, Dean's lungs burned as replays of past weeks' events being possessed surged back into him. The unbearable pain of thousands of sharp needles boring into his skull as Michael had successfully infiltrated the deepest depths of his mind, which he didn't know existed. There, the archangel had found valuable information he could use against humanity, that monsters' loyalty would be a great asset as long as they knew who they belonged to, and their trust was absolute.

_Just like Benny’s._

Through Dean’s memories, Michael had seen the beauty of Purgatory where everything was pure and simple. It’s either kill or be killed. Unlike humans nor angels who Michael found weren’t worth saving, these monsters know what they want, and it was to eat. Simple. He could feed these abominations as long as they obey his orders. Thanks to this, Michael had found his perfect and disposable super army that was also easily manufactured; just infect a human and let the disease do its wonders.

_The real monsters of this world – the ones that cheat, covet, lay waste to this planet – are the humans. _Michael had said to convince the leader of a werewolf pack, Philippe, to join his side. _You kill, but not for sport or trophies, to live. There’s a purity in that._

Dean shivered as Michael’s snobby laughter echoed in his head after the archangel had said that, quoting his and Benny’s description of Purgatory: Pure.

_You and your vampire friend, Benjamin, really, what are you two?_

“Shut up!”

Dean roared at the empty hallway. He’s on his feet now, staggering to find the exit – to be reunited with his family, and he was struggling to remember why Michael just ditched his body like that. Nothing came up though. No memories of Michael or whatsoever, just his voice – Michael’s.

Even now that Michael was gone, the archangel’s tormenting words that he had used against Dean still lingered and kept on repeating in Dean’s head like a broken record. And unusual as it was, the most memorable mental torture was not about Sam not bothering to save him, again, or Sam getting disappointed on him for saying yes to Michael. It was about how unconventional his and Benny’s _friendship _was, and why a supposed righteous man like him would befriend a monster. Hell, Dean had even reached the lowest of the lows when he trusted the vampire more than his brother.

_Yeah, keep denying it, Dean, _Michael had taunted. _I know you feel it too whenever he looks at you with his pair of baby blues. The man’s in love with you, Dean, can’t you see? You’re everything he got, his reason to live straight and narrow. Even though you’ve left him starving and alone years ago, with no one around to keep him good, he still obeys you like a trained dog. Funny, is that how you see him, a loyal dog who would never let you down? Because it fits, Dean, like every normal pet, he’s just a part of your life but you’re his everything._

Dean shook his head in an attempt to tone down Michael's voice, not wanting to remember any of it. Everything Michael had said about Benny were lies, lies to break him.

As Dean reached a panel door, crimson red lights seeping from the unkempt windows, he straightened his back before pushing it with his reserved strength. Inside, a trembling sigh of relief escaped his mouth as Sam, his Mom and Bobby came into view, all breathless and looking at him with precaution. Dean’s eyes also caught the dead vampires on the floor.

Slowly, he walked into the room with his arm stretched out, to reach for his brother but opted to support himself using the wooden beam instead. Exhaustion finally took its toll, his knees barely keeping him up. Leaning on the support, exhausted, he took off Michael’s cap while catching his breath.

Out on the corner of his eye, Mary took a step back while Sam and Bobby tightened their grip around their weapons. _Good._ Dean mentally commended for keeping their guards up. _You guys are not sure if it’s me._ With a shaky breath, he announced.“Sammy, it’s me.”

Reunited with his family, just like that, Michael’s voice disappeared in his head.

* * *

After a long drive from Duluth, Dean was finally at home.

As they walked across the War Room, the other hunters seemed wary of his presence, but with Sam beside him, they simply continued what they were doing. He’d been gone for a few weeks and many things had changed. Sam had a freaking Duck Dynasty beard, and apparently, his brother was in charge now.

“They call you chief?” Dean asked Sam in confusion when one of the hunters had talked to his brother.

“Yeah, someone heard Benny called me that, and the thing just spread like wildfire.”

Dean only hummed in response while observing the new residents. It's different compared to what he was expecting in a group of hunters. He's thinking of flannel shirts and sunburns, just like the old times back at the Roadhouse, but everything seemed organized. No brawls, no gambling, and no arguments. Knowing his brother too well, it's Sam's doing.

Looming under the archway towards the library, Benny greeted Dean with a small wave.

Weirdly, a small part of Dean had expected to hear Michael’s voice in his head, but nothing. He waited for it but was greeted by silence. All that’s left was him and his thoughts alone. For him, it’s more horrifying now since no one’s in his head to judge or question him – to taunt him.

He got an urge to check on Benny, ask him what he's doing if he’s been good all this time, but with Michael's torturous provocations from the past, the thing he normally did got him all confused and questioning why he had to do it.

_It’s Benny, we’re friends. I trust him. There’s no question there. We’re—_

A chilling thought cut Dean off, that maybe – just maybe – Michael was right about him. But right about what, exactly? Dean didn’t want to think about it. Besides, whatever it was, it’s already forgotten in an instant, a fleeting thought. He's exhausted from the drive and a little hungry. This kind of thing ought to happen, brain fart.

“Look, Sam,” pinching the bridge of his nose, Dean started, “I hate to break this to you, but the beard has to go.”

“But I like it—”

“Sam,” Dean cut off sternly. “You like it because people told you it looks good. I’d say they're a bunch of kiss asses. You just look weird, man. So do me a favor and shave that off your face."

Sam was about to argue but Dean simply gave him that look that promises more teasing. "Fine," he mumbled half-heartedly, not wanting to argue anymore.

“Good.” Dean nodded. He gave Sam’s beard another look and grimaced at the sight. A couple more millimeters of that facial hair and Sam would be the physical incarnation of a Yeti… or Sasquatch. _Blergh. _In some way, they kind of looked like Han Solo and Chewie, if the new bunker residents know the reference, of course. “Now that’s settled, I need to get out of this monkey suit,” he said, gesturing at his clothes.

A hunter with a newspaper in hand walked towards them and showed Sam an article about a possible hunt.

Sam gave Dean a tight, yet assertive, smile and nodded at him to move along. ‘I got this’, he mouthed.

Dean nodded before unconsciously making his way towards the library where Benny’s at, the plan to get out of Michael’s clothing was pushed back to the back of his mind.

“Looking good, brother,” Benny greeted with a low whistle, checking out what’s left of Dean’s expensive outfit. His eyes lingered a little too long on the open vest for Dean to notice, but the vampire didn’t seem to care about being caught.

Dean groaned at that. “Yeah, yeah. But don't get used to it. I'd be out of these clothes in no time.”

“Aww, well I bet you’d still look pretty great without them.” Chuckling as he watched Dean rolled his eyes, Benny closed their distance and gave Dean a proper greeting by wrapping his thick arms around the hunter. “Welcome back, brother.”

Dean returned Benny’s bone-crushing hug in response, their bodies impossibly close together. Despite Benny being undead, a comforting warmth radiated from him and it spread throughout Dean’s body. _Home._ Yup, Dean was finally home. “Happy to be here, man. Happy to be here.”

"You've got us getting worried ‘round here, especially Sam. Your brother has been very busy."

“Yeah, I noticed the beard.”

“Looks good on him, though.”

Dean snorted. “Oh not you, too. Keep feeding him that crap and he’d never shave it off.”

“Okay. Okay.” Still hugging Dean, Benny hummed for a moment and took a deep breath. “You hungry? Do you want me to—”

“Hey, I’m fine,” Dean interrupted while pulling himself free from Benny’s reluctant arms, unsure how long they’d been clinging on each other. Luckily, no one had seen them like that. Trying to distance himself, he sat on one of the chairs, Benny doing the same on the opposite end, and he continued, “and don’t bother cooking, I’ll just order some pizza or something later after showering.”

"Okay," Benny nodded, "but if you want something then just give me a holler, yeah? I could forage the fridge and fix you something warm."

A small, grateful smile was Dean’s reply as he watched Benny sank in his seat. Benny stared at Dean with his piercing blue eyes, acting all relaxed and mellow, but Dean could see past through it to figure out that Benny had not drunk blood in a while. The vampire’s eyes gave it all: heavy, less blue and a little distant.

_Do you trust him enough to feed on you from the tap?_

Amid Dean and Benny’s comfortable silence, of just staring and smiling, cherishing the presence of each other, Michael’s mocking words had announced itself in Dean’s head.

_I know vampires, Dean. They won’t stop until they’re full. They're basically animals. But of course, if you want to prove me wrong, to prove Benny is indeed different from other vampires, then how about a little experiment—_

“Shut up.” Dean heard himself mumbling.

“What?” concerned, Benny quickly asked.

“N-nothing, I‘m just tired from the drive, is all.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. _Not now._

Benny didn't press on the matter and Dean appreciated it. The vampire simply hummed and shifted in his seat until he's sitting on the edge, in an attempt to be closer to Dean, his elbows resting on his knees.

Again, their eyes met and found themselves trapped in companionable silence, trading reassuring smiles with each other. And once upon a time, this kind of moment was normal to both of them, just like in Purgatory, but after Dean’s experience with Michael, Dean got a little uncomfortable of the ‘not talking’ and he hated it, as though Michael had stolen something special from him and Benny.

Dean cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, and asked, “How about you, man, how are you holding up? You still got blood bags?”

“Oh no, you ain’t doing that now, chief,” Benny drawled, waving a finger. Eyes wide, Dean only looked at him with a confused expression, unsure if he said something wrong. “You have a lot on your plate right now, so don’t you go worrying about me. I’m the least of your priority here.”

“Hey, I’m just asking. Seriously, Benny, when’s the last time you ate? You look like dog crap.”

Benny went silent and looked down on his folded hands.

“Benny…”

“A few days ago.”

“How long, exactly?”

“Look, Dean, it doesn’t matter. We just got you back, so don’t do that—”

“No, it matters to me, Benny!” Dean exclaimed, not understanding the vampire. “We had a deal, that I’d make it better for you.”

“And you did,” Benny quickly said, his voice calm and reassuring. “My life here’s never been better, Dean.”He stood up and Dean mirrored him. Slowly, he closed their gap for a few steps and reached out to incase one of Dean’s hands with his, and Dean let him. “There’s just too much going on ‘round here lately, you know?”

Dean simply nodded, his eyes fixed at his and Benny’s joined hands.

For a whole minute that felt like forever, they stayed close without talking, just breathing. Too close that Dean could smell Benny's Old Spice body spray. It felt good being physically close to someone like that. Dean might not admit it but he loved how Benny's thumb drew circles on the back of his hand, even though a big part of him wanted to jerk his hand away.

“So what’s the problem?” As much as Dean liked what they’re doing, being touchy or whatever, he couldn’t let Benny get off the hook that easily. Benny couldn’t caress his problem away, especially with him. No sir. “You got a good excuse why you’re not eating?” Tearing his gaze away from their hands, Dean looked up and was met by Benny’s blue eyes glistened with something Dean couldn’t decipher.

“No excuses,” Benny promised, shaking his head.

“Okay, so are you gonna talk or I have to pull it out from you?”

“I’ll talk. I’ll talk.” Squeezing Dean’s hand for self-assurance, Benny took a deep breath and continued with newfound strength, “Ever since Michael possessed you, I couldn’t afford to waste time, go out and have a ‘me time’, to find me a hospital, you know. Besides, even if I tried, I can’t eat properly, thinking you’re probably hurting out there. Thankfully, Sam’s there to distract me, you know, keep me busy. Your kid brother needed every capable hand ‘round here, so I volunteered to help the hunters get sorted. And sometimes they needed my help with cases, especially now that monsters are running wild. Then one thing led to another… I ran out of blood bags.”

“Then why didn’t you ask them for help?” Dean asked.

Silence, again. A longer one.

In front of him, Benny’s mouth opened for a moment before Benny closed them shut, biting his lower lip.

“Benny,” Dean tried but Benny averted his gaze. “Benny, look at me.”

And Benny did; shame, guilt, and fear were evident in his eyes.

Just like that, something clicked in Dean’s head. Obvious as it was, he’s not sure if his guess was right, so he had to ask. “They know you’re a vampire, right?”

Benny shook his head.

“What the fuck, Benny,” Dean said in disappointment. He pulled his hand free from Benny’s grasp and began pacing across the library. The conversation got him all worked up, all of a sudden. His chest heavy, the air around them was suffocating. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

“Because they’re hunters, Dean,” Benny stated the obvious, his voice trembling and pleading, pleading for Dean to understand.

“But they’re…” _different_, Dean halted himself, not wanting to continue. He didn’t know these new hunters, and for all he knew, they could be savages – survivors – after living in that godforsaken world. Out on the corner of his eye, Benny reached out in an attempt to grab Dean's shoulder but the vampire quickly withdrew his hand, as though touching Dean would hurt as much as the disappointment in Dean's eyes.

“Dean, please, try to understand.”

“Understand what?” Dean almost spat. “That you’re starving yourself, huh? You know you’re a—” _don’t say it_ “—liability to these people when you’re like this, right?”

Benny was taken aback by that; a flicker of hurt flashed in his eyes.

_Look what you did, Dean. He looked like a kicked puppy. Is that how you speak with your boyfr—_

** _“Make way! Make way!”_ **

** _“What the hell happened?”_ **

A commotion boomed in the War Room, drowning out the voice in Dean’s head, hushed and panicked conversations reverberating through the halls.

** _“Wendigo.”_ **

** _“How bad-- Oh my God, I’ll get the kit.”_ **

Ignoring the ruckus in the other room, Dean took a deep breath to clear his mind and turned towards Benny. “Look, man, we have got to feed you. Let’s drive you to the nearest hospital and get you--” he paused, Benny’s attention wasn’t on him. “Benny?”

Benny didn't answer – nor reacted. His hurtful eyes turned somewhat vacant, pupils dilated and were fixed on the wide archway behind Dean.

From where Dean was standing, his trained ears picked up Benny’s long intake of air, followed by a shuddering breath. And right then, Dean quickly put two and two together. Bad news, as always, happened in the wrong place at the wrong time.

** _“Fuck, he’s losing too much blood.”_ **

**_“Take him to the library,”_** a woman ordered, **_“clear a table.”_**

_Great... just great._ “Let’s get you out of here,” Dean said in a hurry, feet already moving towards the vampire. In a futile attempt to drag Benny away without force, he grabbed Benny by the arms and shook him awake from his daze. “Benny, listen to me!”

But _nada_; still no response. Hunger clouded Benny’s eyes, but Dean refused to see it. Instead, he focused on the glint of pain in Benny’s starved gaze, shining like a desperate beacon that might help him reach Benny; Benny who’s internally screaming for help from his agonizing hunger.

There’s shuffling behind Dean and was soon followed by multiple footsteps. Now there was no way he and Benny could get away without walking past the hunters.

Determined, Dean firmly curled his fingers around the back of Benny’s neck, coaxing the vampire to look at him, and said, “I know you’re in there, man, so would you fucking please listen to me.”

Benny responded with a blink. That brought a smile on Dean’s face and he breathed a sigh of relief, his voice finally reaching Benny.

“Benny, you in there, buddy?”

With a sudden gasp for air, as though waking up from a bad dream, Benny nodded and slowly looked at the man before him. “Dean, I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Dean quickly said, _there’s no time_. The footsteps behind him were getting louder and louder by the second. “Not now. We need to go.” Without waiting for Benny’s reply, he gripped Benny’s arm, tightly, and half-dragged the vampire towards their exit, only to halt midway.

Dean’s protective instinct kicked in, and it didn’t want the hunters to see Benny in such state. _Save Benny from temptation_, it said. But Dean trusted Benny. Those hunters were the ones Dean was wary of, unsure of how would they act around Benny.

Time’s ticking. A decision had to be made, fast: charge in like a ballistic bull and hope for the best, or stay and wait for an opportunity to sneak off without confronting the hunters?

_Correct me if I’m wrong here, Dean, but don’t you trust your dear old Benjamin?_ Michael whispered in Dean’s head. _If you truly believe that he wouldn’t lay a finger on those hunters, then I’d suggest, make a break for it. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”_

Dean shook his head in disagreement, conflicted by the idea of agreeing with Michael. He looked over his shoulder and stared at Benny in all seriousness, whose face turned as white as a ghost, sweat beading on his forehead. “Do you trust me, man?”

“That’s not even a question, chief.” Benny chuckled in a weak attempt to humor the situation.

“Good.”

Everything happened in a blur after Dean had said that: a smile full of mischief, a confused look, and dragging a compliant vampire. In no time, Dean and Benny were hidden inside of one of the less crammed closets in the library, old boxes filled with books and tomes occupying most of the space.

“I think we’re safe here,” Dean said under his breath, peeking through the slats.

Outside, the hunters quickly worked on cleaning the ugly laceration on the man’s shoulder after peeling off the bloodied cloth they had used to apply pressure. Muffled moans bounced off the walls of the library.

Dean turned around and through the darkness, he spotted Benny sitting on one of the stacked boxes, his arms wrapped around himself and smiling. "What's wrong with you, man, the hell are you smiling?"

“Hey, you’re smiling too.” Benny pointed out; he sounded coherent and in control now.

Dean licked his lower lip at that and looked down at his feet before suppressing the said smile. He then walked towards Benny and sat beside the man. The box made a sound of protest but sturdily held up his weight. Up close, he flicked his attention back at Benny and watched as the smile slowly fell off Benny’s face.

“What's wrong, you gonna disappear on me again?” Dean put a firm, reassuring hand on Benny's shoulder, thumb absently caressing the back of Benny's neck.

Benny shivered under Dean's touch. “No, no. It's just…” Benny took a deep breath through his mouth. The comforting – or straining – arms wrapped around him tightened. “Ain't you pissed at me?”

“I’m not--” _shit, don’t lie_. “Listen, man, we all have our fair share of wrong decisions ‘round here,” Dean explained, shaking Benny. “Hell, look at me and Sam, for fuck’s sake; we’re a pair of walking bad decisions. And if we had a nickel for every--” Dean stopped and shook his head, chuckling, feeling silly. “What I mean is, yes, I _was_ disappointed, but only because I was quick to judge without hearing your part. I should've—”

“Stop torturing yourself, brother,” saving Dean from giving his long speech, Benny interrupted, “I get it.”

Dean waited for Benny to continue but nothing else followed. Benny simply looked at him, blue eyes all somber and full of apprehension.

Seconds passed and silence permeated the enclosed space Dean and Benny were sharing. Inaudible conversations could be heard on the other side of the door. Dean and Benny didn't talk; they didn't have to. Dean wordlessly apologized for the hurtful thing he'd said earlier, and Benny responded with a small, understanding smile.

They just stared at one another, drinking each other's presence. Then Benny's eyes flickered down to Dean's lips.

Dean gulped, suddenly aware of his breathing. The blood pumping in his head was deafening in his ears, drowning the conversation in the library.

Nothing crossed Dean's mind, no voices either. The winged sonofabitch had finally – Dean hoped – gone radio silent for good. It's just him and Benny at the moment, hidden from the world.

Dean didn't know who made the first move. All he knew was that he and Benny were leaning into each other until he felt the soft brush of Benny's lips against his.

It was a long-overdue kiss, tender but firm, and it pained Dean to feel how happy it made him. For the first time in a long while, Dean was, in all honesty, _peachy_. He was on cloud nine. No one should be allowed to feel this way, so happy his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

How long has it been since he'd kissed someone? He couldn't remember. And when was the last time he'd felt this way, all mushy and warm inside?

Like everything else, all good things must come to an end. The kiss only lasted for a fraction of a second, but for all Dean knew, it's long enough to change the tides of his and Benny's friendship.

Dean slowly pulled back, but not without swiping his tongue across Benny's parted mouth, until their faces were inches apart. He stared at Benny, searching his piercing blue eyes for an answer: if Benny had felt the same. And judging by how Benny stared fondly back at him, he knew right then he and Benny were on the same page. There's no turning back from this.

“Did we just kiss and make up?” grinning like an idiot, Benny asked.

Dean snorted. “Shut up and kiss me.” He moved his hand from Benny's shoulder to his neck and drew the man in for another kiss. Both of them were smiling through it.

Driven by raw emotion, Dean was more confident this time. He let go and sank into it, sucking on Benny's lower lip before invading the lax and pliant mouth with his tongue. Benny responded apprehensively as Dean deepened the kiss; he took what Dean gave him and answered back with equal intensity, nothing overwhelming.

Then it hit Dean; he's sucking faces with a starving vampire. That's fucking balls of steel right there. But this was no ordinary vampire. This was Benny, his best friend, his brother-in-arms, his… Dean didn't need to put a label on it. What mattered most was Benny made him happy, the man who always got his back.

“Oh fuck,” Dean gasped as they parted, catching his breath.

“Mm-hmm,” Benny hummed, pressing his lips on Dean's jaw. He lingered there for a moment before peppering Dean's neck with feather-light kisses.

Dean moaned at that, loving the contrast of wiry beard grazing against his skin, and the soft pair of lips. “Quit it, asshole,” he chuckled when Benny went a little too far and licked a long, wet stripe with his tongue, “I'm ticklish.”

Benny did and pulled his face back, eyes searching for Dean.

“What?” Dean asked, trying to figure out what was on Benny’s mind. He put a hand on Benny's heaving chest and half-scratched, half-rubbed one of the pecs. “You got something funny to say?”

Benny shook his head, smiling, before resting his head on Dean's shoulder.

Side by side, they stayed like that: Dean holding Benny close, and Benny melting into Dean's touch, a purr of contentment was rumbling low in his chest. No words were needed. A hum or a squeeze was enough reassurance to tell the other that they're there, that they got each other. It was scary, in a good way, how normal it felt, how natural for both of them to be like this.

_A match made in fucking Purgatory_, Dean thought to himself as he buried his nose in Benny's short hair, inhaling his scent before planting a small kiss there.

Things seemed to calm down in the library. The pained groans had disappeared and were replaced by reassuring words in-between the snipping of scissors.

“Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“You've been to Heaven, yeah? What's it like Upstairs, in the big ol' Paradise?”

“Why'd you ask-- Haha, I get it. Closet. Kissing. 7 minutes in Heaven.”

“I'm serious, Dean.” Benny elbowed Dean's side. “You ain't very specific when you told me about it back in Purgatory.”

Dean craned his neck to meet Benny's gaze. “Seriously you want to know?”

Benny nodded before he nuzzled the crook of Dean's neck, hiding his face and placing a soft kiss on top of the pulse point.

“To be honest, the place kind of sucked.” Dean suddenly remembered a fragment of Sam's Heaven when Sam had run away. He had gotten an earful from an angry John Winchester because of it, and little did he know, it was one of the best times of Sam's teenage years. “It's boring up there. You'll just be reliving the best moments of your life.”

“Like?”

“It depends. It could be the 4th of July, your birthday, shooting your first deer, the first time you had a threesome.”

“They let you do that there?”

"I don't know, maybe." Dean shrugged. "Didn't spend much time up there anyway, just Winchester business crap as usual."

Benny hummed in contemplation.

“Why?” Dean asked in return.

“Nothing.”

Of course, it wasn't just ‘nothing’, but Dean kept silent. It was obvious. If Benny died for the third time, then he'd be sent back in Purgatory, again. It wasn't an issue, as far as Dean knew. Benny had said it himself, that he loved Purgatory, the simplicity, and pureness of the place.

But what changed?

Dean was absently scratching Benny's scalp when a depressing thought came to mind. “You're not getting sappy on me now, are you.”

“Am not. Why,” without disentangling himself from Dean's embrace, Benny straightened his back to look at Dean, “you gonna kiss it better?”

“You fucker.” Dean shook his head but leaned in to kiss the smirk off Benny's lips.

Benny moaned and returned the kiss, but not as intense as the one they had shared earlier.

“What are you thinking?” Dean said, staring into Benny's kind eyes.

“Nothing. Just living in the moment.”

_Living in the moment_, Dean agreed with that, a hundred percent. “Aren't you--”

“Okay, I have to stop you right there, chief, ‘cause I got a feeling where you're going with that,” Benny interrupted. “Before you start to overthink things like you always do, will you stop worrying about me? I'm fine--”

“You're starving.”

“--Okay you got me there alright, but as I said earlier, we just got you back. Take it easy for once, yeah.”

“And you?”

“I already told you, I'm fine. And I'll always be fine as long as I got you.”

_Fucking cheesy_, Dean mentally groaned, but the gravity of Benny's life-after-death situation, punching his guts out, kept his face straight. “But don't you want--”

“We'll cross that bridge when we get there,” Benny quickly cut off, not letting Dean finish the sentence. His glassy eyes were pleading as he pressed a reassuring kiss on Dean's hand. “Let's just enjoy this. Please.”

Dean didn't answer; he couldn't. What Benny was asking was for him not to worry when worrying was his second nature. This guy, like Dean, was putting others first before himself. And Dean hated how hypocrite he'd sound if he asked Benny to take care of himself when he couldn't do it.

“Please.”

After a minute-long of consideration, Dean finally nodded, a defeated sigh escaped his mouth. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“So we good?”

Dean nodded before pressing their foreheads together. “But I can’t promise that I'll stop worrying.”

“Then I won't expect you to.”

“'Cause that's me, Benny, I worry all the time.”

“I know. I know. Just remember that I'm here when things get too much, yeah, that I got your back.”

“And I got yours,” Dean couldn't help but add.

Benny smiled at that, and Dean pulled him in for a slow, languid kiss, thinking Benny was right. Live the moment, make the best regardless of their situation, and they should just enjoy whatever time they had left, every second of it. They still got time.

_We have time_.

“Come on, big guy, time to go.” Dean finally said, slapping Benny’s thigh with a loud smack. Even though he's still breathless after that heated kiss, he stood up and darted towards the closet door. The coast was clear, no one's in the library. “Let's hit the road and get some food in you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sleep-deprived me wrote the Han Solo and Chewie bit. I didn't remove it, obviously, because why not. I see no difference here. :D
> 
>   

> 
> Also, if Benny drinks Dean's blood while Michael is dormant inside of him, what do you guys think would happen?
> 
> \---
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
